Fossils of Memory

Chapter 13

The forest didn't let go of them easily.

Even after they unearthed the box, even after they'd read the letters and felt the weight of Monica's final truths settle into their hands, Rhiana and Chris lingered beneath the willow tree. Snow drifted down slowly, soft as ash. The wind shifted the branches like skeletal fingers reaching toward them, brushing against memory.

Rhiana sat with her back against the tree's twisted trunk, the second box of Monica's hidden things cradled in her lap. Chris stood nearby, scanning the woods as if half-expecting something—or someone—to emerge from the trees. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

The silence wasn't empty.

It was sacred.

It was the space where truth finally lived.

"I don't think it was just about love," Rhiana said at last, her voice hoarse. "I think Monica was going to reveal something bigger. Something dangerous."

Chris turned toward her. "Angela's grandfather... he was the headmaster. If he knew about Monica and Martin, if he had something to hide—"

"She said someone with power. Someone who wanted the truth buried," Rhiana whispered. "What if he was involved in more than just keeping them apart?"

Chris crouched beside her. "What if Monica found something? What if the box... the one we found at your house... was used to hide it?"

Rhiana opened it again.

Inside was the silver locket, still untouched. She lifted it carefully. It felt heavier than it should—like it held something more than metal. When she opened it, a tiny photograph was tucked inside.

A child.

A girl, no more than three or four. Smiling. Curly dark hair. Big eyes.

There was a name etched beneath the photo: Clara.

Rhiana's breath caught. "Who is this?"

Chris leaned in. "She doesn't look like Monica. Do you think...?"

"I don't know," Rhiana murmured. "Maybe a sister. Maybe—"

Her voice faltered. Something unspoken passed between them.

What if Monica had been pregnant?

What if Clara was the secret?

What if that's what got her killed?

Rhiana's stomach turned. She remembered the ache in Monica's letters, the word forgive repeated like a prayer.

And suddenly it all made horrible sense.

She hadn't just died because of a forbidden romance.

She had been silenced because of what she carried.

Not just a truth.

A child.

The sky had darkened by the time they left the woods.

The boxes were hidden again—this time in Rhiana's locked chest under her bed. The locket stayed with her. She couldn't let it out of her sight. She tucked it beneath her shirt and wore it as if it had always belonged to her.

The next day at school, everything looked different.

The classrooms, the lockers, the hallways—they were painted with a veil of suspicion. Rhiana walked past teachers with new eyes. Her gaze searched their faces for guilt, for fear. And when she passed Angela in the hallway, she hesitated.

Angela had always been kind, loud, dramatic. Never cruel. Never calculating.

But now...

Rhiana couldn't help but wonder what her family knew. What her grandfather had told them. What was passed down—or kept hidden. And if Angela, unknowingly, was walking through the halls of a school haunted by her own bloodline's sins.

Angela caught her staring. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Rhiana nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just tired."

"You've been really out of it lately."

"I'm working through something."

Angela smiled. "If you ever need to talk, you know I'm here."

Rhiana managed a faint smile. "Thanks."

But her heart was heavy.

She couldn't tell Angela.

Not yet.

Not until she knew exactly who had protected the lie—and who had suffered because of it.

That evening, Rhiana and Chris met in her room again, surrounded by papers spread across the floor like puzzle pieces. Photos, letters, clippings. Evidence of lives torn apart.

"What do we do now?" Chris asked.

"We figure out what Monica was going to expose. We find out who else was involved. And we finish what she started."

Chris hesitated. "That means going deeper. Talking to people. Digging up things they've kept buried for years."

Rhiana nodded. "I know. And it's going to make them angry."

Chris looked at her, his voice low. "Are you ready for that?"

Rhiana's eyes burned with fire.

"I'm not here to be safe," she said. "I'm here to be remembered."